


Fall Away

by blackwolf369



Series: Semi-Automatic [1]
Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M, Original Character-centric, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-11
Updated: 2015-10-11
Packaged: 2018-04-25 21:42:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4977577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackwolf369/pseuds/blackwolf369
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The gods take a romantic squabble and use it to set their plan to gather the fourteen most powerful demigods into motion. Four of the fourteen, already together, struggle to stay together themselves as they set out to rescue a fifth. Inter-group disputes, accursed disease, hate, distrust, romance, fear, and of course, fucking dipshit asshole dads! It seems as though the world is doomed already…<br/>Title from Twenty One Pilots’ ‘Fall Away’</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fall Away

**Author's Note:**

> So I started this before I read PJO, and then after I just kind of smushed them together because…I dunno XD just cuz. So here’s a bit of explanation that I think helps but if you don’t feel like reading it all that’s fine :D  
> The Center is essentially the center plane of the universe. It has different levels, and each level contains a different thing (I’d say it has four levels: Hades, the lowest, central Center, Olympus, the highest, and the dreamscape which is an intangible level some argue isn’t a level at all.) The barrier between the Center and Earth-plane is very thin, which allows those who can see through the Mist to pass through it and, with training, open “doorways” into and out of it at will (kind of a high-level technique; most can only pass through where the barrier has holes). The gods decided to move the camps into the Center because the new recruiting methods caused them to outgrow their Earth-plane boundaries. (By new recruitment methods I mean they take anyone of godly descent/anyone who can see through the mist with minimal vetting.) Yay!
> 
> I hope you enjoy this :D

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes the sun must turn to the darkness to find the light.  
> Title from Linkin Park’s ‘All for Nothing’

Max held up her M9 Beretta pistol, presenting it to her weapons class. “Alright, eyes up here, everybody.”

Immediately, everyone in the class went silent and looked at Max.

“Right,” Max began. “This—” she motioned to the gun with her free hand “—is a Beretta 9mm, standard issue handgun for Marines. Each of you has had one of these in front of you for five minutes, and most of you were picking them up and play-shooting at your buddies—without checking if they were loaded or not.” She scowled pointedly at several of her students, who had the smarts to hang their heads. “Rule number one when you have a gun: never point it at someone before checking the clip and chamber for bullets. You could accidentally shoot a friend, or you could get shot yourself because your gun isn’t loaded.”

Max went through all the parts of the gun quickly, then how to check the chamber for a bullet, how to load the gun, discharge the clip, clean the gun. It was a crash course, but this class—Max’s only advanced weapons class—could certainly handle her speed. And if they couldn’t, they didn’t belong.

She began prowling around the room, looking over shoulders, giving the occasional tip or correction. There was one seventeen-year-old boy by the name of William Connors who was really smart—but _really_ clumsy, and just couldn’t get the hang of taking apart the gun, or putting it back together when he _did_ get it.

“Connors!” Max snapped, jerking the pieces of his gun from his hands. “If you keep handling the spring like that, you’ll break it, and I am _not_ giving you another one.”

Connors huffed. “It’s not _my_ fault my hands are so big! They’re made for hammering, not assembling.”

Max slapped the back of his head lightly. “Either quit making excuses or get out of my class, Connors.”

Connors looked at his hands. “Sorry.”

She softened her voice. “Just work on it.” Max continued on, finally coming to a stop at the front of the classroom. She checked her watch. It was almost high noon; class ended in two minutes.

Max clapped her hands once and immediately all movement ceased. _Are they_ that _afraid of me?_ “So, everyone, this was a good class, despite some typical beginner mistakes. Christmas is in two weeks, and I expect all of you to be able to assemble and disassemble your guns blindfolded—literally—by the time we meet the week after. I’m letting you all take these wherever you’re all going during the holidays.”

The class cheered.

“Dismissed, everybody,” Max said, waving them away. “Have a good holiday!”

 

Max squeezed the trigger of her handgun viciously, time after time, relishing in the recoil of the weapon, enjoying the bullets hitting the dummy exactly where she aimed them.

 _Damn Ares. Damn Zeus. Damn stupid Nemesis and her stupid so-called ‘justice.’_ Max discharged her empty clip and locked in another without even thinking about it. _I had command of one hundred fine demigods, and they took that away—it went to my freaking dimwit of a half-brother, Marcus. They confined me to this stupid camp—and I can’t even teach a freaking class without being supervised._ Max glanced over her shoulder—and sure enough, the aforementioned dimwit of a half-brother was just leaving Max’s classroom—and he grinned viciously at Max as he did.

Max turned back to her target and imagined the bullets she fired were slamming into Marcus’s face.

Someone tapped Max on the shoulder.

Fast as lightning, Max whipped around and placed the muzzle of her pistol on the forehead of her tapper.

“Hello, Apollo,” Max growled.

Apollo raised his hands above his head in surrender. “Max, lower your gun,” he ordered gently. “I just want to ask a favor.”

Max looked him up and down. Last time she’d seen him he’d been dressed in sun god regalia: shining golden laurel crown, shining golden armor, with a shining golden sword strapped to his side. Now he was dressed just in jeans and a tee-shirt—despite the cold, and nothing adorned his golden hair.

She lowered her gun and thumbed the safety into position. “What do you want? And, while we’re at it, why should I be doing anything for you? You voted against me…as did the rest of the gods.”

Apollo removed his sunglasses, revealing his (glowing) golden eyes. “Athena didn’t—but that’s not the point.” He looked down at the ground, almost as though he were ashamed at what he was about to say. “I need your help, Max. One of my children is being held captive due to a…misunderstanding, and you’re the only one that can get her back.”

Max looked at him incredulously. “Remind me again _why_ I should be doing this?”

Apollo began to glow with anger. “Because if you do this, I can get your probation shortened. Because if you don’t do this, you’ll _probably_ be executed as an enemy of Olympus. Because my daughter is being held by your father. And because—” Apollo had to clear his throat—were those tears in his eyes?—before continuing. “Because the child in question is Tori Summers.”

It took Max a moment to process that. _Tori, captured? I thought she was…gods know where. England, I think. I haven’t talked to her since…since…_ Max mentally kicked herself. She’d sworn never to even think of that day again. _Whatever; it doesn’t matter. This is Tori. Tori is—was my friend, and I_ always _help my friends when they need it._ She lifted her chin a little higher, looking Apollo in the eye. Her voice was imbued with steely determination as she stated, “I’ll do it. But I want to know why she was captured and where she is—both of which I know you know.” She glared at him briefly to emphasize her point.

Apollo shifted his feet nervously. “Well…it’s because…of a certain woman…who we both wanted….”

“WHAT?!” Max yelled angrily. “That’s typical of you gods, hurting people over some _woman._ ”

“She was quite beautiful—”

Max rolled her eyes. “Just tell me where Tori is.”

“Maryland.” Apollo saw Max get ready to yell again and hastily added, “That’s all I know, I swear. And don’t forget to bring some companions, Max. You’ll need them.”

Max began walking back toward the barracks, tossing the sun god a wave as she went. “I’ll have her back by Christmas—the perfect gift. Tell Ares I’m coming for his ass when you get back to Olympus, Apollo. Tell him that from me.”

 

Max came to a stop outside the Athena cabin and rapped loudly on the door.

Tobias, the youngest of the Athena siblings (only ten years old), answered the door. A big grin split his face, but it disappeared as soon as he saw who stood before him. “What do you want, Max?”

Max gave a frustrated sigh. Tobias was one of those that tended to believe everything the gods said. He wasn’t as bright as most of his siblings. “Where’s Aaren?”

The boy sniffed. “Out.”

Max grit her teeth. “Out _where?_ ”

Tobias shrugged.

Max stuffed her hands deep into her jacket pockets in an attempt to keep herself from strangling the kid and turned away. “Tell her I stopped by, at least.”

“Tell who?”

 _Speak of the devil._ Max turned back around. Aaren stood there, decked out in her favorite running uniform: sweats and her grandfather’s old long-sleeved Marine Corps tee-shirt.

Max cleared her throat. “You, actually. Apparently, I need your help.”

Aaren raised an eyebrow, and, sensing the need for privacy, motioned Max into the Athena barracks. Tobias attempted to follow. “Tobias,” Aaren growled, “don’t you have something better to do than pester people?”

Tobias huffed. “Yes, ma’am.”

Aaren gave him a cold look. “Then go do it.”

He ran out like there was a rabid dog on his tail.

Aaren rolled her eyes and shut the door to her office. Max felt a shot of envy for her friend. She tried to fight it down, put it back into its cage, but this time it was just a bit too wild. Offices in the cabins—aka a private space people actually need permission to get into—is a priveledge of being the head of your cabin, which Max had been…until recently.                 

“So,” Aaren began, crossing her arms and examining Max with a well-trained eye. “What is it now?”

Max slouched into a chair. “Apollo charged me with a mission.”

Aaren’s eyes narrowed. “And you _took_ it?”

“Yup. Good ol’ _Ares_ is holding my friend Tori against her will—something about getting back at Apollo for ‘stealing his girl’, and—”

“—You need help getting her back?”

Max nodded.

Aaren grabbed a brush and ran it quickly through her sweat-soaked dark brown hair. “I’m gonna change and meet you at the mess hall in ten minutes, ‘kay?”

“Yeah.” Max stood. “Do you think you could get Jason on the way? He might come in handy.”

“Sure.”

 

Max leaned against the outside wall of the mess hall, waiting for Aaren and co. to show up, lost in her own thoughts.

 _I need to call my mother and tell her I won’t be able to make it for Christmas._ Max sighed and scrolled through her contacts. She knew the number, of course, but she was only stalling. She really _really_ didn’t want to dissappoint  her mom. _The gods promised me ten days of freedom for Christmas—one for each Olympian who voted against me—so long as I stayed with my mother the whole time._ She laughed bitterly at her luck. _Of course they’d find a way to take that away from me._

“Max!” yelled a familiar voice.

Max looked up to see Alex dashing toward her. Immediately, Max’s mood brightened. She caught Alex in a hug, swung her around once, then set her down, still grinning. “Someone’s looking hot today.”

Alex just rolled her eyes at the old joke. Alex was a daughter of Hepheastus, and being so could produce and manipulate fire at will. Also, her hair and eyes were literally the color of flames. “Heard you needed some help, so I decided to help you.”

Max wrinkled her nose. She had a tendency to pride herself on never needing ‘help’. “Reccommended assistance, thank you.”

Aaren interrupted, “I heard help.”

Max mock-glared at her. Jason poked her in the chest with his finger. “Back off,” he said.

Max resisted the urge to slice his nuts off and held her hands up in a ‘whatever, man’ gesture. Aaren gave her a warning look that said ‘ _don’t you dare_ ’. Alex, sensing a confrontation was about to get messy, took a step back.

“There’s no need to get all bent out of shape,” Max stated, trying so, _so_ hard to stay calm. “I was just messing around.”

Jason scowled. “Don’t mess around with my girlfriend.”

“She’s my friend, too, you know,” Max snapped. “I can mess around with her if I want.”

Jason pushed her back. Max stumbled slightly and replied with a push twice as hard.

“Don’t. _Fucking._ Touch me,” she growled. “I will _hurt_ you.”

Jason snorted. “You couldn’t beat me if you tried.”

 _I have tried._ “Is that a dare?” _And I won._

Jason hadn’t meant it as one, but there was no way he would back down. He drew his sword and brandished it at Max. “Let’s go, then.”

Twin knives appeared in both of Max’s hands. She was about to strike—using the one move sure to end this fight fast—but Aaren stepped in between the two.

“Both of you just calm down,” she ordered. “I am _so_ unbelievably tired of you fighting over me. It’s not flattering; it’s annoying. Jason, Max is my friend. That’s all. What happened months ago does. Not. Matter. Max, I’d like my boyfriend to remain in one piece, please.”

Max’s nose twitched. She was so pissed as Jason she almost— _almost—_ lunged around Aaren. _I kiss her one time and he acts like I murdered his mother or something._ But she really, _really_ didn’t want to anger Aaren further. She knew from experience that Aaren would not hesitate to kick her ass. _I just don’t want to hurt her._

Jason glared daggers at Max and mouthed, _Later._

Aaren missed it and, after a calming breath, continued talking. “Now. When are we leaving? Where are we going? Do you know anything that might help?”

“Apollo didn’t give me much of anything to go on. Maryland is all he said; but I have some ideas about where to go from there.” Max rubbed the back of her neck. “I just…I’m not sure what we’re going to be facing.”

Jason rolled his eyes and kicked half-heartedly at the ground. “Great. Enlisted for a job led by some clueless ass.”

Max closed her eyes. _Don’t hurt him, Max. He’s just a boy; he will always be an idiot._ “I said I have ideas. We can go off those when we get there.”

“Are we at least visiting the oracle?” Jason pressed. “Rachel might be able to offer valuable…riddly stuff.”

“No. _No._ ” Max waved the idea away like it didn’t matter, but in reality the concept scared the shit out of her. It wasn’t that she didn’t like Rachel, just that…she didn’t think knowing the future—even in vague riddles—was such a great idea. Errors in interpretation had gotten some of her best friends killed. “I know enough to get us by. Promise.”

“Wait a minute,” Alex said. “Is there a deadline? When do we leave?”

“No, but we’re aiming for before Christmas. And…I was thinking tomorrow. I doubt one night is going to make a diff—”

“Today. We should leave as soon as possible.” Alex didn’t offer an explanation.

Max raised an eyebrow. Alex was generally the biggest procrastinator on earth; even missions she tried to put off. _She has been acting off lately. She had to go with her mom to the doctor a few weeks ago; maybe something’s up with her._

But boy oh boy was she wrong.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed what you just read! I love feedback of all kinds, so if you liked it don’t be afraid to tell me (but don’t feel obligated to either :P) You can find me on Tumblr @maxgreydawolf aaaaaand on Patreon at The Grey Café


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